Hermione Jean Granger, aged 10
by Aelia Weasley
Summary: Just when 10 year old Hermione thought she was destined to be the weird girl with no friends, a mysterious woman with a twinkle in her eye arrived at her home and told her that everything that made her weird was exactly what made her special.
1. Social Pariah

"She's so_ weird!_"

I knew the giggling group of girls was talking about me without looking up from my lunch. I just gripped my book a little tighter and tried not to let my face get red.

They used to be my friends: Tasha, Amelia, Jaya and Patricia. We all went to the same sleepaway camp for years. We'd sit around a fire at night with the other campers and roast marshmallows and laugh. We went swimming in the lake at the center of the camp. All that ended when The Thing happened.

I don't know why it happened; it's not as if I was trying to do it. Things just happened around me sometimes; I couldn't explain or control it. All together they decided I was a social misfit because of it. They stopped eating lunch with me, and wouldn't sit by me. I was a 10 year old pariah – untouchable.

The only one who still looked at me and smiled was Patricia. Her family lived across the street and we had been friends since we were babies. Her mum and mine got to be friendly, they moved into our neighborhood around the same time and were pregnant with us at the same time (she's one month older). There are photographs of us in diapers playing in her paddling pool. We used to ride our bicycles all over the neighborhood together after school every day; hers was bright pink and had iridescent streamers hanging from the handlebars, mine was mint green with white streamers.

Ever since The Thing, she avoided talking to me but if our eyes met, she smiled weakly. That actually hurt more than being ignored by the others. It says, "I'm too much of a lemming to talk to you, Hermione. The other girls hate you so I have to hate you, too. Sorry."

It was only the beginning of September and I knew it was going to be a very difficult year for me. I shut myself up in my room and pretended to have more homework than I actually did. Mum asked me what I'd like to do for my 11th birthday and I didn't know what to say. I didn't want her to worry, but I didn't want to pretend I still had friends when I didn't. After she asked me a fifth time, I asked her if she and I could go to the theater to see a new musical that had come out and she seemed really excited about the idea.

Then, to make things worse, one day I was in the girl's lavatory at school when I heard Amelia and Jaya talking about me at the sinks.

"Can she get any weirder?" Amelia asked.

"Probably – she actually_ likes_ reading." Jaya mocked.

"That was the only good thing about her- she always let me copy her homework." Amelia replied. "Mum asked me why my marks have gone down so low this year and I just laughed."

"Yeah, mine have gone down, too." Jaya said.

"Ooh, ooh! _I _know that answer! Pick me_, Pick me_!" Amelia said and Jaya cackled. It took me a moment to realize they were mimicking me and my face grew very hot.

I waited until their laughter died down and I heard their shoes clip clop out of the loo before I emerged from my stall. I washed my hands and put cool water on my face.

"Don't let them see you cry, Hermione. Don't let them know they've hurt you." I said to myself.

When I got home from school, Mum would ask me about my day and I'd mumble that it was fine and rush upstairs to cry. _Why was I so weird? _Tasha and Jaya had birthdays within a week of each other and they'd always have a big joint birthday party at Tasha's grandparent's home. Their birthdays were in November, but Tasha's grandparents were very well off and had a pool that was indoors. It was amazing to swim in the warm water during the party and watch snow fall outside at the same time.

"Hermione, aren't Tasha and Jaya having their big birthday this year? You haven't said a word about it." Mum asked me one day. I looked down at my dinner, fidgeting in my seat.

"That's right – I haven't seen much of any of them lately, darling." My dad said nodding his head.

"They are. But…I'm not invited." I said, tears ready to flow. "They're not my friends anymore." I dropped my fork with a clatter. "May I be excused, please?" I asked, wiping my eyes on my sleeve.

"What happened, Hermione? They were your best friends…" Mum said, suddenly realizing that Dad was right, my former friends hadn't been to our home since before The Thing.

"Please, Mum. May I please be excused?" I looked up at her imploringly and she nodded. I jumped up from my seat and rushed up to my room. I shut the door and cried into my favorite bear – one that Amelia had given to me for Christmas when we were seven.

His ginger fur and the red ribbon around his neck were soaked with my tears by the time I remembered that he was a gift from one of the girls who now hated me. I got so angry when all of a sudden – _rrrip_.

I jumped back, tossing the toy away from me on the bed. I hadn't even been holding it that hard; I certainly hadn't tried ripping its head off. It was as if the head was magically separated from its body.

_"Brilliant._ _Another weird thing happening_." I thought. _"Just what I needed to make myself feel worse."_

There was a knock at my door. I got up, gathering what was left of my bear and tucked him in my toy chest – maybe I could repair him.

"Hermione?" It was Mum. I pressed my hands against my cheeks to cool them down and opened the door. She was holding a cup of warm milk and it made me smile. She always brought me warm milk with a little bit of sugar when I was upset. I took the cup from her and sat on my bed; she followed me and sat down too.

"Sweetheart, what's going on? I assumed you'd had a row with your friends but you girls have always worked things out before, what's different this time?" She tilted her head and studied my face while I sipped my milk. Its warmth soothed my achy throat, made scratchy from sobbing.

"They hate me because I'm weird."

Mum sighed. "No, you're not, my love. Not at all!" she said sweetly.

"I am, Mum! Why do these mental things always happen to me? Why do the lights flicker and go out when I'm scared watching a film with Dad? Why does that black cat follow me all the way to school? I'm a freak." I started crying again, and again the light in my ceiling fan started flickering. Mum stroked my hair and whispered comforting things while I calmed myself.

"I just…want to be…normal." I said through tears.


	2. Meeting McGonagall

My own birthday was less than one week away and I really missed Patricia. I really missed rushing up to my room to change out of my school clothes and running across the street to her house so we could go for a ride. I stood at my window, which faces the street and saw Jaya standing out in front of Patricia's house. They were drawing on the front walkway with colored chalk. My heart dropped. I didn't want to still be hurt, but I was.

And that strange cat was sitting under our mailbox again. It wasn't grooming itself or laying down in the grass or looking for mice; it was just sitting there as if it was looking into our windows. Not just any window, my bedroom window. It was as if that cat was staring right at me; right through me.

The miserable, lonely days at school passed by achingly slow. I had never before regretted doing the months' worth of reading in advance so I would have a jump on the material. I had no one at all to talk to. I ate my lunch in the library, which wouldn't have normally been allowed but our school librarian knew how much I revered the library and I wouldn't dream of leaving a mess.

I really was a complete loser, not a single friend in the world, hiding in the library with my sandwich.

On the morning of my birthday (thankfully it was a Sunday), I slept in late until after 11.00. Even after I was awake, I pretended to still be asleep whenever Mum knocked on my door. Finally around 1.00 I decided I couldn't lay in my bed another minute. I got up and showered and put on fresh pyjamas. While it was still wet I dragged a comb through my hair, much more harshly than usual, and twisted it into a bun.

I went downstairs and saw Mum and Dad watching a television program. I flopped down onto the divan and pulled a blanket over myself. My parents cast worried glances at me but I pretended not to notice.

"Hermione? Shall we go for a walk, darling? It's a lovely day." Mum finally said sweetly.

"That's a wonderful idea!" Dad offered with a little extra enthusiasm. "Or we could go to the cinema, anything you want to see – it's your choice!"

I didn't respond verbally, just shrugged.

"What about some ice cream? Or cake? We'll go to any restaurant you choose, darling." Mum offered.

I lifted my head and rested my chin on the heel of my hand. I tried to smile. They were trying so hard to cheer me up but it just wasn't working.

"How about a cup of tea to start, Mum." I said softly. My voice came out in a squeak from disuse. Mum kissed my forehead when she started to make her way to the kitchen.

"Things have a way of working themselves out, sweetheart. The girls will come round, you'll see." She said.

"And if they don't, they aren't good friends and you're well shot of them." Dad said definitively. He was always rather protective of me; I knew it really upset him when I was sad.

While Mum fixed my tea, Dad put a film on the player that never failed to make me laugh. Halfway through it, I felt better but I remembered the last time I watched it was during a slumber party at Tasha's house. That damped my mood a bit but I tried not to show it.

I got to a point where I didn't have to force a smile anymore and Mum suggested I go change and we would go out to eat together. I nodded my head and went up to my bedroom to dress. I chose an autumn-weight brown dress with knee socks and black Mary-Janes. When I was dressed, I looked out my window towards Patricia's house, out of habit more than anything else. That black cat was sitting across the street looking right at me. I felt a shiver.

"It's just a cat, Hermione. It's not looking at you, it's just sitting there." I said to myself when I pulled the curtain shut.

When I came back down to the living room, there was a stack of presents on our coffee table almost taller than I was. Mum and Dad looked up and smiled at me.

"Happy Birthday, Hermione!" They said together. I sat on the sofa and they handed me box after box to open. The boxes were full of books and new clothes. After I'd opened my gifts, I hugged Mum and Dad and thanked them. New books always excited me, I sat back down and tucked a leg under myself while I organized my new books in the order I'd read them.

"There'll be time enough to do that later, Hermione. Let's get something to eat and get you some strawberry ice cream!" Mum said holding her hand out to me. I nodded and took her hand. Just before we were ready to leave, there was a knock at the front door.

My heart leapt. Patricia must have decided to be my friend after all! She'd told the other three to pound sand and she was here to apologize. I pictured the two of us sitting at the counter at the sweet shop giggling like the old days while we enjoyed ice cream sundaes. Mum read the expression on my face and smiled as she made room for me to run to the front door, completely ready to accept Patricia's apology.

You can't imagine my astonishment when I opened the door to find an older woman with silver hair slicked back into a severe bun, an even more severe expression pulled tightly on her face. Once the initial shock of seeing someone I didn't expect at the front door wore off, I looked down. She was wearing a long, flowing black robe. I cocked my head to the side and took a step back from the threshold.

I expected her voice to be quite harsh but the words she spoke surprised me more than the calm, even tone of her voice.

"Hermione Granger, I presume?" She said with a hint of a twinkle in her eye.


	3. Hogwarts

Mum and Dad were standing behind me, Dad put a protective hand on my shoulder, pulling me behind him.

"Ah, Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger," the strange woman said with a congenial smile. She held out her hand to my parents and they accepted her handshake cautiously.

"My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall. I'm an instructor at a private academy in Scotland. I'm very sorry to intrude upon Hermione's birthday celebration, but I was hoping I might have a word with you about her education."

My parents looked at each other, down at me and back at the petite woman at our front door. Dad spoke first, still holding himself in between me and our unexpected visitor.

"Well Professor…erm…" he stumbled.

"McGonagall." The woman offered with a slight smile.

"We were heading out for a late lunch and some ice cream…" Mum said.

"Please join us, Professor." I said softly. I was so incredibly curious to hear about this new school. Professor McGonagall smiled again. Her stern expression had softened further and she looked down at me.

"I'd be delighted to but I'm a bit pressed for time. I have several more stops to make this evening; students in London, Somerset, Manchester, Bristol – so many students celebrating a birthday today."

My parents puzzled again. By that point, I think all three of us noticed there wasn't a car parked in front of our house. We were all wondering how the devil this strange woman got to our home in Cambridge and how she ever expected to get to all of those other places she mentioned in one night. It was more than several hours drive to each of them.

"Excuse me, Professor but how did you know it was my birthday?" I finally asked. She chuckled and held a hand out to me.

"If I might have a few minutes of your time, I could explain it all." She said.

Reluctantly, my mother stepped aside and let Professor McGonagall step inside.

"Could I bring you anything, Professor? Tea? Biscuits? Meringues?" Mum offered, sounding nervous.

"Thank you, Mrs. Granger. That sounds lovely. May I sit?" She asked. My father gestured towards an armchair and she sat, her back properly straight and crossed her ankles. Her wrinkled hands came to rest in her lap, folded neatly.

I sat across from her, quietly studying her.

"So what were saying about your school, Professor?" Dad started, lifting his ankle to cross it across his opposite knee. He leaned back in his recliner and folded his hands over his stomach. Mum brought in a tray for the Professor and she smiled graciously.

"It is called Hogwarts, Mr. Granger. It is an exclusive school for students with exceptional talents and abilities, such as Hermione."

I sat up straighter in my seat.

"Well, I agree that Hermione is extremely gifted in her studies Professor but, forgive me, how do _you_ know? I've never inquired about any school in Scotland, I've never heard of it." Mum said, placing her hand on mine and squeezing.

"Oh, well you wouldn't have heard of it, Mrs. Granger. But Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has a long, long history of catering to the most talented students in all of England, Wales, Ireland and Scotland. I'm prejudiced of course, but you'll find no better school for young witches and wizards in the world." She said. The twinkle in her eye grew brighter when she spoke so enthusiastically about her beloved school.

"I'm sorry – did you say…witchcraft?" Dad said. I saw his body tense up and he eyed Mum and me. He was clearly regretting ever allowing this insane person into our parlour.

"I did indeed, Mr. Granger. Now, before you start panicking that I am a crackpot," She chuckled at her own joke (which my parents did not find amusing at all) "May I ask Hermione a question?"

I nodded, intrigued but afraid.

"Have you ever made something inexplicable happen? Do these things seem to happen when you're in an extreme emotional state?" My widening eyes were all the answer she needed.

"Yes, Ma'am." I replied, my memory filling to the brim with every instance.

"You aren't alone, Hermione. There is an explanation for your abilities and the teachers at our school are proficient in bringing out the best there is within you." Professor McGonagall's calm, even tone had me transfixed while my parents looked on in confusion and a bit of fear.

Dad stood up and gestured his hand for the door. "We really must be going, Miss – erm _Professor_." He said.

Professor McGonagall looked at him and reached into a hidden pocket of her robe, it looked like she was feeling around for something and it made my father's hands shake. She pulled out a stick. About 11 inches long, it had a slight curve to it. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a –

The strange woman who appeared at my front door on my 11th birthday waved the stick in the air and vanished before our eyes. I sat with my parents completely astonished when she was gone and the black cat that was always staring at me was sitting on the chair in her place.

"What the devil?!" Mum exclaimed.

After a minute or so of cocking it head at us, the cat stepped casually off the chair and padded over to our upright studio piano against the wall. Before we could have another thought, Professor McGonagall was suddenly back and the cat was nowhere to be seen.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, may I present you with this…" she said, pulling an envelope out of her robe, presumably from the very pocket where she'd stowed her stick.

Mum was flabbergasted but she stood and reached out for the letter. The gleam in Professor McGonagall's eye returned, three-fold.

My parents read the letter together and looked up at me and then at McGonagall who flashed a warm smile at them and me.

"It's all true." She said. "We have ways of finding children such as Hermione, that is to say, born to non-Magic families such as yourselves. Muggles, we call you. Mind you, it's not a derogatory term in the least. No one knows why Magic children are born to two Muggle parents but they are no less gifted than Pureblood children. I dare say, Hermione will flourish at Hogwarts."

Completely flabbergasted my parents stood silent. I approached and took the piece of parchment from my mother's hand.

"It is with great pleasure that we inform you, Hermione Jean Granger, that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…" I read to myself.

"Professor, I'm sorry but…there's no such thing as magic…" Mum said, finally finding her voice.

"It's perfectly natural for you to doubt. Muggle parents often refuse to acknowledge it. It is of course your decision as her parents whether or not Hermione matriculates at Hogwarts. If I may say though, it is unlikely that Hermione will feel more at home anywhere else in the world."

That struck a chord. I certainly felt different, lately more than ever. Since The Thing. My heart did a somersault – The Thing. I had an explanation for it now. I had a name to call it that didn't make me ashamed. It was Magic.


	4. The Simple Demonstration

"I sense, despite my transformation right before your eyes, you're still dubious. May I ask Hermione to attempt a spell? Just a small, simple demonstration?" Professor McGonagall asked.

I didn't wait for my parents to answer for me. I swallowed my nerves and stepped forward. Professor McGonagall beamed proudly at me.

"Excellent, Miss Granger. You'll be a brave Gryffindor yet! My dear, take this." She said handing me the stick she was still holding.

"Professor, is this a…a…" I stuttered nervously. I tried to concentrate on the task at hand and not wonder what in the world a "Gryffindor" was.

"A magic wand, yes." She answered. "Every witch and wizard has one of their own. Now, mine is most effective for me but it is pliable enough to obey you if you try a simple spell. Now for an example…" The casual way this strange woman spoke of magic and wands made me want to giggle. She twirled her head around the room, I wasn't sure what she was looking for until she looked at my dad, still frozen solid on the spot where he'd read my acceptance letter.

"Mr. Granger, I see you are squinting somewhat. May I inquire where your spectacles are?" She asked kindly.

My dad shook his head and slowly reached for the breast pocket of his shirt. He pulled out his eyeglasses with the cracked lens.

"They're here." He said softly. "I stood on them accidentally last week. I have to make an appointment to have them replaced." He said. Dad had been suffering from awful headaches since he'd broken his glasses.

"Perfect!" McGonagall said, clapping her hands together. She swooped over to my father and took the glasses from his hand. She placed them down on the sofa table and stood by my side, turning me to face Dad's glasses.

"Now, my dear. I would ask you to wave my wand like this…" She put her hand over mine and guided my movement three times until I could repeat the motion exactly. "Perfect. Now do that movement and say these words…" She whispered the jibberish sounding incantation in my ear. I nervously turned to my parents who clearly didn't know which planet they were standing on.

Clearing my throat, I waved the wand and repeated the words.

"_Occulus reparo_."

No one in the room was more surprised than I was when sure enough, Dad's glasses went from having a cockeyed tilt and a cracked lens to completely pristine. It was as if he'd only just picked them up from the optometrist.

My parents each gave a shocked yell. I stared at the repaired eyeglasses and felt my heart fill. I felt my tears well up. The realization was other-worldly, impossible but undoubtedly true. I wasn't a freak, there was a name for me. I was a witch.

Professor McGonagall beamed at me and offered me a dark red handkerchief with gold trim to wipe my eyes. As I took the satin fabric in my hand I saw a golden lion emblazoned on it. I dabbed my eyes and handed it back to Professor McGonagall with a whisper of thanks.

"There are many things yet to explain to you, but I really need to be on my way or I will miss my Portkey. I will have Nathalie Andrews, a school representative contact you in two days. She's a very upstanding, talented witch and she will be able to answer questions for you. You don't have to have your minds made up now but I encourage you to speak with her before you do decide."

Professor McGonagall reached for her wand and I reluctantly handed it back to her. It wasn't until then that I noticed my body was vibrating when I held the wand. The absence of the vibrations made me long for their return.

"I did so enjoy meeting you, Miss Granger." McGonagall said with a nod. "I would very much like to see you at Hogwarts. It would be a delight to have you." She looked up at my parents and held her arms out to them in farewell.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, it was my pleasure. I'll be on my way. I hate to delay your lunch and dessert another minute." She said. She turned on her heel and walked out the door.

I swung the door shut and the three of us stood staring at each other. My mind was racing, it felt as if my entire world had broadened. There was no way I wasn't going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'd go there if I had to hitchhike. I'd go there if I had to fly.

Wait a minute – could I_ fly_?

Mum and Dad were still shocked into silence. He retrieved his repaired eyeglasses and put them on. It was his way of confirming that was he saw was real.

"I want to go. I want to go to this school." I said declaratively. "This is the reason I've always felt like an outcast here; I don't belong. I don't want to waste any more time."

Mum cocked her head at me, "We'll certainly discuss it…"

"No, Mum. I've made up my mind. I want to go." I wasn't the type to stomp my foot and throw a tantrum when I didn't get my way but I was definitely digging my heels in on the issue. If they saw I was determined to go, I knew they wouldn't resist.

We drove quietly to a hamburger restaurant but I was too excited to eat very much. My spirits lifted so high I felt like I was floating. I couldn't stop smiling all the way through our meal. I ordered a strawberry sundae for dessert and all three of us shared it. The way they were smiling told me everything I needed to know. Mum and Dad hadn't said it yet, but I felt them relent. I was going to Hogwarts!

It was all I could think about for the rest of the day. Mum was right, the weather was lovely so we ended up going for a walk after we ate. There's a beautiful park they took me and my ex-friends to all the time to play. I hopped onto a swing and pumped my legs hard to get into a steady rhythm. My parents sat nearby on a bench, talking.

The sun started to set when we got back home. We settled into the parlour and I tried cracking open one of my new books. I read the same page four times; I couldn't concentrate. All I could think about was my new school, my fresh start. I wondered who I'd meet, what friends I would make. No one there would think I was weird. No one there would make fun of me,

I was so happy, I could have cried.


	5. My Dinner with Nathalie

The following two days were achingly long. As much as I loved my lessons, I couldn't think of anything other than the anticipation over meeting Nathalie Andrews and getting myself situated at my new school. I wondered what my lessons would be like; what subjects I would study. I always loved reading about British history, I wondered if there was an entire history of the magical world that I knew nothing about. I assumed there was. I felt little nervous butterflies fluttering in my stomach; was I at a disadvantage as a…what did Professor McGonagall call it? A Muggleborn? My classmates from magical families probably grew up knowing the things I didn't know. I was confident I could catch up but my competitive spirit always made me jealous of anyone who knew things I didn't. This would literally be a whole new world for me, I hoped I would fit in.

While my former friends were still ignoring me, it no longer hurt. I didn't need to trouble myself over them anymore I would soon be surrounded by others just like me and with any luck, I'd never be an outsider again. I raced home from school on the second day and ran up to my bedroom. I stared at my open closet, agonizing over what I should wear to make a good impression on Nathalie. I might have already been accepted to Hogwarts, but I didn't want to risk Nathalie reporting something negative back to Professor McGonagall. I pulled on a pair of new jeans and a sensible slate blue jumper. I changed from my school shoes into a pair of new black trainers and sat at my dressing table, glaring at my frizzy hair. Perhaps there was a spell to tame it. I made a mental note to learn that spell as soon as possible. I tried combing it but my hands shook with anticipation; I sighed and just pulled it up as best I could. Professor McGonagall didn't tell us what time to expect our visitor but Mum set an extra place for dinner, just in case.

"I hope she doesn't come too late in the evening." Mum worried. We sat around the dinner table, each of us nervous for our own reasons. We usually talked casually while we ate but that night was very different. The sounds of utensils scraping against plates were the only things that broke the anxious silence. I squealed when the buzzer went off; quickly wiping my mouth on my napkin and I bolted to the door.

I expected to see someone dressed like Professor McGonagall, in a black robe. The young woman on my doorstep didn't fit any of my expectations. She appeared to be about 20, was only slightly shorter than my father and had long, shiny blonde hair. She had a small purse slung over her shoulder and she wore jeans, a slouchy, off the shoulder black cable knit jumper and black boots. To look at her, you would think she was an ordinary university student. She smiled wide at me when I opened the door.

"Good evening, I'm looking for Hermione?" She said. She tucked some of her hair behind her ear and I saw tiny stud earrings from her lobe all the way up her ear, there must have been eight of them.

"I'm Hermione." I said nodding shyly. "Come in." I stepped aside so she could enter. I noticed that her dark olive skin smelled like a warm vanilla lotion when she walked by me. The hygienist at my parents' dental practice, Kate, wore the same one. She smiled at me and looked around the foyer.

"Are you hungry?" I asked. "Mum set a place for you at the table, we didn't know when to expect you…"

"And I'm late, oh goodness, I'm sorry." She shook her head apologetically.

Nathalie followed me into the dining room where my parents were still quietly eating. I took a deep breath and held it in, hoping one of them would speak first. To my relief, Nathalie introduced herself and took the lead.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, I'm very sorry for being late. There's a lot happening at the school right now, all sorts of preparations being made for next year." She said, sitting down.

My father took her soup bowl and gave her three heaping ladles full of Mum's chicken soup. My parents smiled congenially at her.

"What exactly is the school preparing for?" Mum asked her, Nathalie's eyes lit up with excitement.

"The arrival of a very important person, Mrs. Granger. Very important indeed. He saved the entire wizarding world from sure destruction! His name and the date of his arrival at the school is well known to every witch and wizard the world over. Harry Potter has practically been a hero since the day he was born." Nathalie gushed.

"This…Potter…is a _child?_" Dad asked incredulously.

"I know it sounds a bit ridiculous, Mr. Granger, but I assure you I'm not exaggerating." She replied earnestly. She proceeded to tell us about "the Most Evil Wizard who ever lived" and his defeat at the hands of this one year old boy. Even as his parents lay dead, this small child barely able to talk had vanquished a man who had killed dozens.

"Well…that's quite a story…" Mum said, stunned.

"So you see why we're all deeply excited for his return. He was brought to Muggle relatives to be raised outside the scope of our world. That was our Head Master, Professor Dumbledore's idea." Nathalie explained proudly.

"Would no one else have him?" Dad asked.

"Have him? There were any number of wizard families who would be deeply honored to take care of Harry Potter. Dumbledore thought it best that he live with his maternal Aunt and Uncle, where he could be raised like any ordinary child." Nathalie replied.

"Sounds as if he is anything but ordinary." Mum observed, Nathalie nodded her head.

"So you see, Hermione is in an exciting and unique position if she will be attending. She'll be in the same year as the most famous boy in the wizarding world." Nathalie said smiling wide at me.

I smiled back but I puzzled. "I thought you said he was going to be at Hogwarts next fall?" I asked.

"That's right. All sorts of extra protective spells are being placed on the school, so he and all of the new first years like yourself will be safe next September." She folded her hands in her lap.

"But I'm 11 now, can't I go to Hogwarts this year?" I said, my voice trembled. I couldn't bear the idea of another year in my school, not when I'd know I belonged somewhere else.

"I'm very sorry, Hermione but that would be impossible. Our laws state a child must turn eleven _before_ the 16th of August in order to be admitted to Hogwarts on September the First."

"The 16th of August?!" I exclaimed sadly, "But my birthday is less than a month after that! Surely I could catch up on whatever I've missed so far!" The tears choked in my throat. Nathalie frowned, I had made the fresh flowers Mum had in a vase on the table wilt and turn dark brown.

Nathalie removed her wand from her pocket and revived the flowers with a single wave. "I can see you're extremely determined and obviously gifted, Hermione. You must have made quite an impression on McGonagall – she requested a special dispensation from the Ministry of Magic on your behalf but they don't grant them easily. I'm afraid if you are going to attend Hogwarts, you must wait until next September."

"Another _year_? But…" I looked to my parents and they shared a hopeful expression – as if keeping me out of Hogwarts for an extra year might mean I'd change my mind.

"Rules are rules, Hermione. And they have changed within the last ten years. All students regardless of blood status receive their acceptance letters on their eleventh birthday. Formerly, all Muggleborn students were notified of their acceptance on the first of August. It discouraged Muggleborn students from attending, you see. As the term starts on the first of September, parents and the children would have less than a month to come to terms with the idea of having a witch or wizard in the family, inform themselves about our world and Hogwarts and to purchase all the necessary schoolbooks and supplies. Enrollment of Muggleborns was low for quite a while. I'm very happy all of that changed after the fall of…You Know Who; Muggleborns are so important to our world." She smiled at us.

"Why are they so important?" My father sat forward in his chair, obviously intrigued.

"Well, diversity, frankly. Not only to introduce young witches and wizards to their peers raised in the Muggle world, but also genetic diversity as well. Some of the older Pure-blooded families inter-married to keep the line free of Muggle blood. The result has been some rather unsavory offspring. I'm a Half-Blood myself, my mother is a Muggle." Nathalie took a big gulp of water and let everything sink in.

My parents are very reserved people, always calm and collected. Their faces hardly ever revealed what either of them were thinking. Mum spoke first.

"Nathalie…we are indeed very proud of Hermione. She's always been at the very top of her classes and she's very gifted academically. My husband and I have given it a good deal of thought and discussion since Professor McGonagall's visit and we have decided." She took Dad's hand and stared at the table a moment.

"You have?" I asked. My voice broke, betraying my nervousness.

Dad smiled at me. "Hermione, we want what is best for you. As strange as all of this is for us to understand, we feel it would be cruel of us to not allow you to attend Hogwarts."

"We only had one child so we could focus all of our love and attention on you, Hermione. We were dreading the day you'd go to university and leave home but…this is an opportunity you cannot miss, despite how much we are going to miss you." Mum wiped a tear from her eye.

I leapt from my seat and wrapped my arms around them, elated tears flowing freely.

"You can always come home if you want to." Dad said, kissing my cheek.

"And we can take a holiday every year for Christmas, somewhere just the three of us." Mum added.

"I don't know what to say. Thank you." I said, looking at them both. I turned towards Nathalie and she was smiling shyly.

Nathalie was beaming at me. "I can't tell you how excited I am for you, Hermione. You clearly have wonderful parents. Not all Muggleborns are so lucky." She reached down to the floor where she had tucked her purse. She placed it on the dining table and before our eyes, she pulled out two enormous, ancient-looking books and plunked them down. I stared in awe, there had to be a charm or something on her purse, it was not nearly big enough to hold either of the giant volumes she'd just removed.

"Let me clear these things away…" Mum said, standing.

"No, please, Mrs. Granger, allow me." Nathalie waved her wand and the dishes were gone before our eyes. The distinct sound of our dishwasher clicking on could be heard a moment later.

"Hermione you really must learn that spell, darling." Dad joked.

"I had so hoped you were going to permit Hermione to attend. I've brought along some reading materials for you. It's going to be a long year for you; I can see you're keen to get started." She pushed the larger of the two books at me and with her wand she flipped it around so I could read the faded title, gold leaf chipping away off of the ever-desiccating leather binding.

"This is _Hogwarts, A History._" Nathalie said. "It's not required reading, but I think you'll find it extremely interesting and helpful. You're at a bit of a disadvantage as a Muggleborn. The other students, even the Half-Bloods are told all about Hogwarts from a very young age. Just about everything you could possibly want to know about the castle itself and the school is detailed in here." She winked at me. I reverently lifted the book off the table and examined the delicate leather cover.

"What's that other book you have there?" Mum asked, squeezing my arm excitedly.

"This is the Standard Book of Spells, Level 1." It's an older edition than what Flourish and Blotts sells now but until you can get to Diagon Alley to purchase your supplies, you can peruse this one. Technically, under-age students are not allowed to practice magic outside of the school but as you're not a student yet, I don't see any harm in you reading the book. That brings me to my final gift to you." She stood and reached into her purse one more time. She pulled out a small, clear glass vile. She pulled the stopper out and tipped it over. A speck of wood, no bitter than a splinter, fell onto the table without any noise at all.

Nathalie waved her wand and said "_Engorgio_" and the splinter was suddenly transformed into a wand on the table.

I approached it carefully, as I it were a living thing and at any moment it could bite me.

"Is that my…" I began to ask quietly.

"Not yours, no. That was my first wand, I bought it when I was your age. It's precious to me, I've only lent it out to students once or twice before you. If the mood strikes and you would like to try a spell, _a small one,_ you may use this. When you go to Diagon Alley and buy your own, please leave it with Mr. Ollivander, he will see that it gets back to me." Nathalie smiled kindly down at me. I felt like hugging her.

A wand. A real wand, right in front of me.

"Go on, you know you want to!" She giggled. I reached my hand out; just before I touched the smooth mahogany, I felt a warm vibration rush up my arm. I'd first felt the sensation two days earlier when Professor McGonagall permitted me the use of her wand. I felt as if I were being greeted by a friend. A warm blanket was wrapped around me when I clasped my hand around the wand.

"It's so warm!" I exclaimed.

"Just wait until you go to Ollivander's and find your own! You won't believe it. Mr. Ollivander always says that 'the wand chooses the witch', Hermione. You'll no doubt have to try a few of them but when your wand is placed in your hand for the first time, it will feel like you've grown a third arm." Nathalie crossed her arms over her chest and nodded approvingly.

I smiled at her and diverted my eyes back to her wand in my hand. "Teach me a spell?" I implored, sounding more desperate than I wanted to. Nathalie looked around the dining room. She raised her wand and gave it a flick.

A crystal candlestick floated mid-air towards us and landed gingerly on the table in front of me. A second flick produced a long blue and bronze tapered candle out of nowhere. She laid it down on the table. My parents were seated across from us, completely mystified expressions on their faces.

"Astonishing." Dad said quietly. 'This is absolutely astonishing."

Nathalie shrugged. "Parlor tricks, really, Mr. Granger. I assure you, Hermione will master much more complex magic before she's through!" She winked and turned her attention back to me.

"Now Hermione, this exercise is a typical assignment for a First Year student. It teaches a not-very-complex spell, but also control and concentration. You will certainly be able to levitate things much heavier than a candle by Seventh Year but if you can't control where you put them down, you can have quite a mess on your hands."

I grimaced, suddenly reminded of The Thing. I shook my head and paid closer attention to Nathalie.

"Did Professor McGonagall teach you the 'swish and flick' wand movement?"

I shook my head and demonstrated it.

"Well done! Now point the wand at the candle, swish and flick and say _Wingardium Leviosa._"

I did. The candle jerked slightly but nothing else.

"No one gets it right at first, don't fret about that. Try again."

_Wingardium Leviosa. _Nothing.

"Try snapping at the wrist, just a bit…" she instructed while chewing her bottom lip.

_Wingardium Leviosa! _The candle slowly rose off the table and my parents both clapped in celebration. I smiled wide but as soon as I looked up at them, the candle plopped back down again.

"Excellent! Very, very good!" Nathalie clapped her hands. "Try again, try to hold your concentration this time. In your mind, tell the candle where you want it to go."

_Wingardium Leviosa! _ The candle obediently lifted off the table again, this time it stood straight up. "Candlestick." I thought. "Get into the candlestick."

It slowly floated towards the crystal candlestick, Mum clasped her hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp.

"In the candlestick. Down a bit…to the left…"

The candle dropped down onto the table and rolled to the floor. I squished up my face in a frustrated expression but everyone else was applauding me again.

"That was brilliant!" Dad said laughingly. "You almost had it!"

"But I didn't! I didn't break concentration or _anything_." I said, crossing my arms.

"I agree with your father, Hermione! You did very well. Very few young witches come any closer than you did, most barely are able to lift the candle. You might just be a Ravenclaw, like me!"

"Raven-what?" Mum asked. I wanted to pretend I knew, just to not look ignorant to Nathalie but I had no idea what that meant.

"Oh, Ravenclaw was my House at Hogwarts. Most of the smartest witches and wizards are in Ravenclaw – 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure!'" She replied. She proceeded to tell us about the other houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. From what Nathalie said, it didn't matter much which house I joined at school – except Slytherin. From the way she sneered when she described Slytherin House, I didn't want to have any part of it.

"Ravenclaw would be lucky to have you, Hermione – you'd be following in my footsteps! Gryffindor is an excellent house as well. My boyfriend Charlie's family is Pure-Blooded and every single one of them has been in Gryffindor for as long as anyone can remember!" She put an arm around my shoulders and waved her wand; the candle lifted off the floor and floated right into my hands.

"I thought you said these Pure-Blooded families were all stuck on each other?" Dad asked.

Nathalie nodded. "It's true, many of the Pure-Blooded families harbor prejudices against those of us with Muggle blood. Not Charlie's though. It's true that none of them have married Half-Blood or Muggleborn but they certainly embrace the Muggle culture." She shrugged her shoulders. She checked her wristwatch.

"Oh, Merlin's earwax, I'm afraid I have to leave, I'm very nearly late!" She made quickly to gather herself and tossed her purse over her shoulder. She waved her wand and a mirror appeared in her hand which she used to check her hair and eye make-up.

"Another appointment with a prospective student?" Dad asked, Nathalie blushed and casually made the mirror vanish.

"I'd say she was running late to meet this Charlie fellow." Mum said winking at Nathalie. Dad nodded and left the room to answer the telephone ringing in the parlor.

"I am, I'm afraid. It's no bother, Charlie is always late for everything. Even at school he was the last one in the classroom for every lesson." She suddenly looked sad.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Oh, it's nothing to concern yourself with, Hermione. Charlie's moving. In a week. Tonight was sort of going to be our last hurrah before he leaves, it might be the end of us altogether. I would go with him in a heartbeat if he asked me to." She frowned deeper and sighed. "Anyway, I'm sorry, didn't mean to bore you with my boy problem." She smiled slightly.

"Is there a way I can contact you, Nathalie? If I have any questions?" I asked. She reached into her purse and handed me a card.

"You can reach me by telephone at home, any time. I'll also be in touch in the next few months – and of course, I'm your official escort into Diagon Alley when it's time to buy your school things!" She looked back at her watch. "Drat! I really must dash off. Thank you very much for dinner, Mrs. Granger! It was lovely meeting you all! Hermione, practice the candle exercise – I won't have one of the other Muggleborn First Years showing you up!" She smiled widely with a laugh and hurried out of the dining room. I tried following her but I turned the corner into the parlor and she was gone.

My parents were suddenly behind me, each with a hand on my shoulders. We all stared at the place in the room where Nathalie ought to have been standing if she didn't possess the ability to vanish.

"Remarkable young woman." Dad said, unsure of what else to say.

"Indeed she is. Excellent role model you have there, Hermione." Mum added.

"Apart from her taste in young men." Dad said.


End file.
